


Vampire Kisses

by writingfromasgard



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/M, Halloween
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 09:35:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16890066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfromasgard/pseuds/writingfromasgard
Summary: Sváli warns Ivar about not dressing up for the Halloween party then grows to regret her words.





	Vampire Kisses

Sváli came out of the bathroom with a smirk. She was more than pleased at the costume she chose for tonight’s Lothbrok party. She was more than pleased with her outfit once she had applied the proper face paint. Her outfit made her feel.. playful to say the least.

Ivar sat on the edge of his bed, tugging on a pair of everyday sneakers. He looked up when she cleared her throat and dragged his eyes over her. “Gamora? I thought you had decided on Wanda.” His attention when back to tying his laces.

A heavy sigh left her lips and she walked towards him. “I wanted to but.. I remembered what happened last year. No one understood that costume.” She walked over to him and cocked a brow up. She lifted his chin up with her fingers. “Are you really wearing that, Ivar?”

Ivar pulled his chin away. “Yes. Do you have an issue with it?” His hands reached for her waist, smoothing over the tiny band of skin that peak from under her top. “You looked good in Wanda’s clothing.. but Gamora..”

Ivar sucked on his teeth and moved his hands down her back. She felt him give a possessive squeeze of her ass. “Flattery isn’t distracting me from you not wearing a costume.” She grabbed his wrists and moved them up, back on her hips.

“What is wrong with what I have on?” Sváli smiled at the high pitch tone his voice took on. His brows were furrowed and showing a crease in his forehead. She stepped away from him, hiding her smile behind her hand.

“Are you calling the clothes that I saw you wear the other week a costume?” She asked. His fingers threaded through his loose hair with a thoughtful expression. His pearly whites peaked out from behind his lips after a moment.

“I am dressed up like a Lothbrok. That is a popular costume in this town..” He reasoned, reaching out for the loop on her leather jeans. She stepped out of his reach, eyes rolling at his reply.

“That isn’t a costume for you.” Sváli said with a flat tone. She walked to her overnight bag and pulled out her boots. She bent down, tugging the boot on by its top. Ivar let out a loud wolf whistle and she wiggled her ass at him. “Better commit it to memory. You aren’t going to be seeing it bare anytime soon.”

Ivar’s loud huff of annoyance was heard clear enough for her. She finished zipping both boots and turned around to see Ivar propped up on the bed with his elbows. “So does that mean I’m on top tonight? ‘Cause I think I’m feeling more dog style than missionary.”

She wished she had something she could throw at him to dissipate his stupid smirk. Instead, she had a better idea. Her boots clicked against the hardwood floor of his bedroom as she approached him. She pushed his legs apart and turned around to shake her ass in from of him.

Ivar took the opportunity and smacks her ass. His palm landed with a loud clap. She let out her best fake moan. She could smell the spike of arousal in the air, radiating from Ivar. His hands hovered over her waist before she quickly slipped away from him again. “Not happening tonight.”

She stashed her worn clothes into her bag and glanced over at Ivar. His facial features were as relaxed as he allowed them but his eyes were a curt reminder that he hated to be teased by her. The hair on the back of her neck stood up and she shivered under his gaze. “If you come here now, I will be merciful tonight.”

Sváli ignored the urge to laugh, that would only come off as a challenge to him. “Ivar? Merciful?” She asked, feigning surprise. “Your idea of mercy is edging.” She didn’t miss the way he wet his lips or the cocky smile that followed.

“If that is true, then the alternative is much worse.” The way his voice sounded so sure of his capability made her shiver. There were many things he could do but leave her unsatisfied as punishment? He prided himself on giving her as much pleasure as possible.

“Mhm… I will take my chances.” The room could have dropped a few degrees with the look in his eyes now. Even so, she waved at him and slipped out the door. Already she could hear the music for the party and laughter from guests.

Sváli strolled onto the back deck. It was thirty minutes after when Ivar made an appearance, supporting himself on his crutches. She was miffed after having seen the bruises left by them. It was only going to make things worse.

He moved through the crowd and to where she was sitting at a picnic table. Her lips turned upwards into a smile. He had changed a majority of his outfit and wore a shortened Cape on his back. Tiny red streaks of makeup looked like blood dripping down his chin. He had added a red splotch to the top of his collar, she was certain that had been tough to stain one of his shirts. “You’re a vampire?”

Ivar maneuvered into the chair next to her with a smile. “It does look that way.” He replied. He reached for her drink and sipped on it. His face scrunched up at the sweetness that hid the actual taste of alcohol. “What is this?”

“Sigurd made it for me. Cranberry, pineapple, and peach schnapps.” She reached for the glass only for Ivar to dump it out on the nearby plant. She stared dumbfounded at the empty glass he placed back on the table. “Oh come on. I know you don’t get along with your brother but that was my drink.”

Ivar shrugged his shoulders, holding his hand out for hers. “It has nothing to do with him. You can hardly taste anything but sugar in that drink.” She glared at his hand and reluctantly gave him hers. He leaned forward in his chair, kissing the back of her hand softly. "I asked the professional to make something.. appropriate.” 

Sváli looked off into the rest of the party, mumbling under her breath about his attitude. A low grumble drew her attention back to him. She was tempted to draw her hand away from his and swat at him. “Appropriate for what exactly?” He used his other hand to motion to his outfit with a smile. The sharp quip in the back of her throat stayed there as one of the waiters sat down two ruby-colored drinks for the both of them.

Ivar had been right, of course. With Sigurd’s sugary drinks, she usually felt herself growing sick by the third one but the chosen drink had the right balance of bitter cranberry to tart raspberry vodka and liquor. After her fifth, he had convinced her to move to the bench because of people funneling onto the balcony with drinks.

He had his arm wrapped around her shoulders, playing with the nape of her neck while her head rested on his upper arm. When she finally managed to lift her head up to look at him, she grimaced at how far away he looked. “Hey.. Look at me.” She pushed her self up and stretched her neck out, kissing him when he turned his face. 

He chased her lips for a moment when she pulled back from him. It was easy enough for him to guide her head to the side where he had access to her neck. Her noise of protest died in her throat as he began lavishing her neck with kisses.

With the buzz of alcohol in her blood, she was unable to control all of the sounds that wanted to escape her. A soft moan slipped past her lips and he teased her neck with his teeth. “Ivar..” He pulled back from her neck with a huff. The two of them had to bite down on their lip to keep from laughing at the other.

Green skin paint had smeared onto his lips, erasing the previous trail of blood. “I think we go to your room before you start to look more like the Hulk than a vampire.” She teased. He rolled his eyes, trying to snuff out his smile.


End file.
